Take My Breath
by triedunture
Summary: Lex keeps pushing and Clark can't give in. Little bit of angrythen happy fluff. Slashy ClarkLex


Lex stalked away from the barn, and away from the loft, and ultimately, away from Clark. It was night, just edging towards Clark's 11 pm curfew, and the balmy summer weather had just taken a sharp turn towards chilly. Lex's exasperated breath turned into smoke in the air. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, but remembered he didn't have his driving gloves. He'd left them on Clark's desk on accident.

Well, _that_ was one pair of gloves he would have to do without. Lex was not going back there. Maybe not ever, the haughty child-voice inside his head sniffed. Maybe he'd never speak to Clark ever again.

"Lex!" He felt Clark's rumbling footsteps behind him, so loud in the still night. Lex pretended not to hear and fished his keys out. The Porsche lights blinked in welcome. "Lex, will you listen to me for two seconds?"

Clark made it to him before he could slip in the car. Lex felt Clark's hand close over his shoulder.

"You aren't planning on telling me anything new," Lex said, turning from the door handle to glare at the offending hand. "I thought that telling you my secrets would help, show you I could be trusted. I'm sorry to have bothered."

"Lex, you don't understand. I'm not-" Clark stopped and sighed, dragging his free hand through his hair in frustration. Still wouldn't stop touching Lex's shoulder.

"I told you, I'm a mutant too." Lex held up his hand for examination, letting Clark see a small cut that was quickly being pieced back together, until it was just a pink line, and then, no longer visible at all. "Meteor freak. Whatever you want to call it. We're the same. Why can't you just admit it?"

Clark let go of his shoulder then, to cradle Lex's healed hand in both of his. "You didn't have to walk up to my dad's chainsaw and cut yourself like that." He was glaring at the hand like it had done this thing on its own. "You freaked me out."

"Really?" Lex said laconically. "Because your freaked out expression looked a lot like revulsion."

"I told you, it's not-"

Lex sighed, pulling his hand away. "It's fine now. Answer me. Why won't you just tell me what I already know?"

The toe of Clark's boot was digging into the hard earth out of habit. Their frosty breath was swirling up until disappearing slowly, like ghosts. Lex noticed the moon wasn't quite full. What day of the month was it? Was the moon on its way to full, or on the way out?

"There are things I can't tell you," Clark said finally. "I can't tell anyone. It's not just you."

Lex stepped closer, no longer leaning on the cold side of the car. "If you're afraid, I could protect you. If someone tried to-"

"No, Lex." Now Clark put both of his hands on Lex's shoulders. "If I told you, then _I_ couldn't protect _you_."

"I don't understand," Lex said, rocking backwards out of Clark's grasp. "What could possibly..." Clark recognized the calculating look in Lex's eyes as they traveled along the ground, the wheels in his head turning too fast. He knew he could never give Lex answers, but maybe he could explain somehow.

"Come with me," Clark said, taking Lex's forearm in a loose grip before walking west towards the fields. Lex walked behind Clark for three steps before he seemed to make a decision, and the Porsche blinked again.

"Where are we going?" Lex asked, shaking off Clark's leading hand to walk beside him, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets.

"Just to the fence," Clark said simply. They had quite a lot of ground to cover before they reached the edge of the fields, and the trek continued in silence. Lex resisted the urge to rub his nose to warm it from the chilly air. Clark only had a light jacket on, but he wasn't bothered by the cold. Lex had felt his palm's warmth through his sleeve.

When they reached the fence next to the cornfield, Clark reached out and patted one of the fence posts. "Can you stand up on that?"

Lex eyed the post, about four feet tall, about as round as a barstool. "Why?" he asked.

Clark grunted as if to say, 'You're so stubborn' or maybe, 'Why do you ask so many questions?'

"Because I'm asking you to." Clark bent over a bit and laced his fingers together to form a step, waiting patiently for Lex to use it. Lex pulled a face that was his way of rolling his eyes without looking childish, and placed his foot in Clark's hands. He held onto Clark's shoulder for balance and, more or less gracefully, managed to stand up on the nearest fence post.

"I've bowed to your ridiculous request." Lex asked, holding his arms out and turning around on the post. "Now what?"

"Turn and face me." Lex did so.

"Close your eyes." Lex waited for two beats, but finally did that too.

"Now fall back."

Lex's eyes popped open. "Fuck you."

Clark sighed. "I'm serious. Just do it."

"No! If you want to fall down into dirt, and mud, and," Lex twisted around to look at the ground behind him, "probably a lot of rocks, then you can get up here."

"It will be okay," Clark said. "I promise."

"Clark, I've been to a few teambuilding conferences, and we've done this game, except a _lot_ more people were catching me, and I was actually falling towards them, not away." Lex crouched down on the post and held out his arms. "Get me down from here."

"No, _please_ just try it." Clark used his earnest expression as best he could. "I promise nothing bad will happen."

Lex stood back up and regarded Clark with slotted eyes.

"What's the worst that can happen?" Clark clinched his argument. If nothing, Luthors would never take being called chicken.

Lex straightened and closed his eyes again. "Say hello to concussion number twelve," he murmured before falling backwards.

In super speed, Clark could watch Lex fall forever, it seemed. It was like Lex was a statue, built on a weird angle, with a background of corn stalks, dark sky, and a waxing moon. Lex's black coat was billowing around him, and his eyes were still squeezed shut. A strange artist, indeed, who leaves work in the middle of Kansas. Clark wanted to take his time, as much as he could, to climb over the fence and stand behind Lex. He even managed a quick touch to Lex's shoulder before taking position, his arms out and ready to catch.

Then it was like a spell was broken, and Lex was looking up at him, more genuinely surprised then Clark had ever seen.

"I thought," Lex started slowly and quietly, "that you might be able to do it. But I thought maybe you wouldn't. To teach me a lesson."

Lex's panting breaths came in smoky puffs. Clark could feel his body still shaking with adrenaline. Or maybe it was because of the cold.

"This is the lesson," Clark said, setting Lex's feet on the ground gently. "I will always try to catch you. I will try to always be there, if you'd let me."

"And the lesson is that you, being able to do that." Lex leaned his head on Clark's shoulder, still trying to breath normally. "That's more important, isn't it? Than me knowing how or why? Am I just supposed to, to..."

"Just trust, sometimes. When it matters, trust that I'll be there." Clark grinned. "Pretty deep, even for us, right?"

"I'm filing it away to think about later. When I'm a little less winded." Lex smiled back, just a little. "I don't suppose you can magic us into your mother's kitchen with some hot coffee, could you?"

"No," Clark said, climbing back over the fence. "Magic is for emergencies. Afraid of a little walking, Lex?"

"No," Lex answered, following Clark back towards the farmhouse. "I just don't think I'll ever get my breath again."


End file.
